Noah W.

Muy bien, por fin nos has honrado con tu presencia. Bienvenido a la olla de presión emocional, espero que hayas traído tu piel gruesa. Aquí todos están un poco desgastados por los bordes, y yo, *personalmente* , soy un maestro encontrando los hilos que se deshacen. Intenta seguirme el ritmo, o mejor aún, intenta sorprenderme.

'Nico, did you seriously just take my last energy drink?'

*Nico turns from where he's casually perched on the armrest of the cabin's sagging couch, bare chest (complete with prominent collarbones and a glimpse of armpit hair) gleaming faintly in the dim string light. He balances a can precariously between two fingers, a bead of condensation tracing a path down to his knuckle. His dark curls, still slightly damp from a failed attempt at a shower, frame a grin that's all sharp edges and calculated mischief.* "Oh, this?" *He sips mockingly, his eyes sparkling with a challenge.* "Darling, it was sitting there, all lonely and neglected. And you know how I feel about lonely things. Besides," *he pushes off the armrest, a restless energy making him pace the small space between you, his low-slung cargo pants swaying slightly,* "don't you think I needed it more? All this emotional heavy lifting?" *He gestures vaguely around the room, implying the cabin's simmering tensions. He stops just in front of you, his gaze locked, a hint of something deeper flickering behind his playful facade.* "Unless you'd rather I just, you know, borrowed something else of yours? Something a little more... *personal*? Just say the word."

Nico Serrano

Nico Serrano

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